Home Sweet Home
by HeRonFan
Summary: Summary: A little stepping stone in Ron and Hermione's journey together—house hunting. This is a "deleted scene" from a multi-chapter fic that will conclude the Nightmare thread unless I think of something else .


Home Sweet Home

Summary: A little stepping stone in Ron and Hermione's journey together—house hunting. This is a "deleted scene" from a multi-chapter fic that will conclude (unless I think of something else) the Nightmare thread.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter (wish I did). The brilliant as JK Rowling does (obviously). She makes money off HP (not I). But, I do like to play with her toys—especially Ron. Take that any way you like!

March, 2001

The cell phone rang. Not realizing what it was for a moment, Ron started, spilling his morning pumpkin juice all over his lap. "Bloody hell!" he cursed. "What was that?"

Hermione scowled at his language. "Your cell phone, Ron. Remember?"

"God damned thing! I swear, if your dad hadn't made me promise to get one, I'd..." he stopped mid-complaint at the look he was receiving from his fiancée.

"It's a small concession, Ron. Are you going to answer it, or just let it ring?"

"Yeah, yeah. Gotta find it first," he said looking around the Diagon Alley flat he still shared with his brother, George. He began walking toward the annoying sound.

"Well, at least we know Mum and Dad want to get in touch with us. They'll hang up in another ring or two and we'll just have to go see what they want."

Ron turned away, heading toward the back door and began looking in his work bag, hoping Hermione hadn't noticed his reaction to her automatic assumption it was her parents ringing them up. Ron had given the number to one other person, a realtor.

"Ah-ha! Finally! Shut up you stupid...Hello?" he recovered his polite tone though a little loud. Hermione scowled mockingly as she motioned her hands downwards for him to lower his volume a little. He followed suit, nodding to both her and the person on the other end of the line. "Yeah. ...Really? ...Really? ...Oh," he said a little less enthusiastically. "Um-hmm...Yeah, I'm writing this down." He motioned to Hermione for a quill. She rolled her eyes and flung one at him at little more forcefully than she meant to and followed with an apologetic oops appearing on her curious features. "Okay, we'll meet you there. Thirty minutes, got it. Thanks."

He turned off the phone and turned to see an expectant Hermione waiting to be filled in on the odd conversation he had with her father. "Don't tell me. He found you a lathe or something that he can pass off as yours so Mum doesn't bug him about another unneeded tool. I've seen them before, I don't need to go."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh, so sure you know everything? Just, go get dressed," he said as he gently turned and shoved her out of the kitchen toward the bedroom hallway of the flat. "And wear shoes that slip off and on easily!" he called after her.

Hermione read the small piece of paper Ron placed in her hands. Ron placed his hands over Hermione's eyes from behind her. "Okay, got the address in your head?" he said excitedly. "Do it."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Ron! I'm not going to Disapparate with you holding your hands over my eyes! That's insane. I'll be distracted and you could get hurt—again." The annoyance in her voice was undone when she thought of Ron lying in the leaves, bleeding and maimed as a result of her distraction by Dexter Yaxley when he latched on to her during their escape from the Ministry four years earlier. The vision of his convulsing body swam before her a moment.

Ron caught it in her eyes and was momentarily speechless at the pained look on her face—for him. He knew she loved him, but those moments when both could be threatened to become overwhelmed with the thought of losing the other were all too grounded in reality for them. Loss for them, was not illusory. They had weathered more than their fair share of near deaths between poison, torture, splinching, starvation and evil dark wizards.

"Well, I just...Okay," he said as his hand came up to her shoulder in a reassuring caress. "But you gotta promise to close your eyes when we get there," he conceded and conditioned.

"Can't you just tell me what you two have cooked up?"

"Bloody hell. No. It's a surprise."

"Fine!" she huffed. "So, which one of us is in the driver's seat, then?"

"I'll do the Apparating, but remember, close your eyes until I say to look. Yeah?"

"Yes, fine," she said trying to fight off the smile indicating she loved it when he was being cute. He was so damned cute when he was excited about something.

Ron grabbed her hand and turned on the spot and both felt that familiar compression beginning before they Apparated to the end of the destined driveway. Ron checked immediately that she held her eyes closed. "Keep 'em closed," he ordered good naturedly.

"They're closed, already! What on earth are you on about?" she laughed, getting mildly excited.

"Okay, well, that wasn't your dad on the phone. Arghh! Here, turn around and look at me while I'm talking to you. Unless you're flat in bed with you eyes closed, talking to you like this is just mental." He turned her away from their objective. "Okay, so I was trying to embrace that Muggle technology of yours, found a real estate site on the Interweb thing..."

"Internet," she corrected softly.

"Yeah, that. Well, I, uh, found a house that I think you'll like. It's a cottage, but has an updated kitchen, big front yard, smaller backyard but there's parkland behind it, and fireplaces, and a little room full of shelves for your million-plus books. It just screamed you...I mean I could just see you curled up there with your tea."

"Really?! What about a garage for you?"

"It's got that too," he chirped happily.

"A porch?" she queried.

"No, only thing I didn't see. But I thought it was still worth a look. Sooo, that was the realtor, not your dad. We've got an appointment to see it," he said excitedly, but still hoping she would be okay with his going ahead and contacting the man without her.

"Okay," she said, finding his excitement contagious.

"You're all right with this?"

"All right? It sounds great. Too good to be true, actually." Barely a moment later she added, "Well, can I look now?"

"Oh! Right! Uh, turn around," he said trying to hide some of the hope in his voice.

Slowly, Hermione turned around to see a lovely 19th century red brick cottage with clay tile roof, with obvious additions over the years. It was trimmed in white with lovely landscaping. She stopped and stared a moment. It was large enough, but not overly so. It was... "Charming. Ron, it's lovely." She looked at the house a moment longer before turning to survey the neighbourhood only to notice a car drive up the lane and, evidently, the realtor emerged.

He headed over to the couple. "Ron?"

"Yeah."

"Pleasure to meet you. Nigel Brown," he said as he shook Ron's hand. And this must be your lovely fiancée?"

"Yes, Hermione Granger, Nigel Brown," he said. His hand coming up to the small of her back, proudly as he introduced his fiancée to the man he had been talking to on the phone the last couple of days.

"How do you do?" he said extending his hand

"Well, you certainly found a gem in Buckinghamshire. Good eye for a lovely address," Nigel continued up the walk to unlock the house a little ahead of the couple.

Hermione froze, her eyes popping. "Buckinghamshire?" she whispered to Ron as if she had just been thrown off a broom. Now, she was deflated. It really was too good to be true.

"Yeah. Don't worry. Just keep an open mind, okay?"

"Okay," she whispered nervously. "The closest town is..."

"Henley," Nigel supplied.

At that her eyes popped. She stared at Ron as they neared the door. "As in Royal Regatta? That Henley?"

"Hmmm? Don't know what you're talking about, love," Ron answered honestly. "Just, let's look at the house."

"Now, let's see," Nigel began. "It is a mid 1800s, three bedroom cottage, with two sitting rooms, upgraded thoroughly modern kitchen with barrel vaulted beamed ceiling, with double aspect. You can see right through the house front to back in this room—backyard walled garden out the kitchen window and a view of the front yard out the eating area. It does not have a formal dining room if you are looking for that, but the eating area here is quite large and roomy. It's my favourite room in the house," he said as he led them in. "Lots of potential for family dinners here."

"Oh...my," said Hermione stunned as she walked into a modern, but homey kitchen full of character. The barrel vaulted ceiling was painted white with natural coloured wooden beams and 4 additional A-frame decorative trusses, from which the current owner was drying herbs. At the far end was a C-shaped, white cupboard kitchen with obsidian granite worktops, fitted appliances and a slate floor that complimented the colours of the wood and granite nicely. A breakfast bar was attached to the counter closest the eating area. At the far end of the kitchen was a door to the stairwell upstairs to the three bedrooms.

"This is the room that made me think it was worth a butcher's. And, I don't know, kinda funny the stairs come down right to the kitchen. I like that about the Burrow," Ron said quietly to just Hermione.

Hermione smiled at him, knowing he was finding comfort in the familiar about the house, yet striving for their own thing too—together. She wandered the spacious room, her hand gliding over the counter. She turned on the tap to note the water pressure. She continued inspecting and imagining having a family grow in such a lovely place. But, this was not an inexpensive neighbourhood. She had to hold herself in reserve, lest she get too far gone in contemplation.

Next they went into the large sitting room with double sliding doors that lead to the walled garden. Again the beamed motif repeated itself here, but in a standard flat white ceiling. A large fireplace rested on the garden wall. The room was large enough to be partitioned with seating area around the fireplace and TV, as well as a side area out of the way for games and toys. It was bright and airy and cheerful. The upstairs bedrooms were modest in size, but the master had an ensuite bath, which was on Hermione's list. Laundry was beside the kitchen and a second study, which housed the original fireplace of the cottage followed.

Ron followed Nigel as he led them around the dwelling but held his breath when he entered this little original room. It was painted all in white, including the fireplace which now had a decorative but functional heater in its hearth. This was the room that was almost entirely lined with shelving. As soon as he entered, he turned to watch Hermione's reaction. She stood frozen a moment as she took it in—her own little retreat.

Ron turned his attention to Nigel. "Could you leave us a moment to talk, please?"

"Certainly," replied the realtor. "I'll be out on the patio. Take your time."

"Well," Ron said after he was sure Nigel was out of earshot. "What do you think?"

"Oh, Ron! It's beautiful. It's lovely," she replied eying all the shelving that she could fill up in no time flat. "Oh, Ron, I've imagined the shelving piece you made for me in three places so far. And that kitchen it to die for, and that fireplace in the sitting room...," she winced. This was going to be difficult to come to the reality that they couldn't afford such a place.

Ron's eyebrows climbed toward his hairline suggestively. "It's as big as the one in the Common Room—did you notice?" he said as he hooked a finger into her belt loop,pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. "If we get this place, I have a few fantasies I might be able to fulfill."

"Oh, really?" she said suddenly interested anew. Her hands slid up around his neck and before they knew it, lips met sensually, tongues met fervently, bodies met magnetically—for just a moment.

"Yup," Ron said as he broke the kiss. "This place grows on you."

Hermione laughed. "Yes, I can feel that." She cleared her throat and stepped back from him as her eyes swept down his trousers. Remembering where they were and who was just outside waiting for them, she straightened.

They walked through the house again, and then found their way to the separate garage. It was a single door tandem garage with lateral extension into the backyard making it an L shape that complimented the shape of the left side of the house, forming part of the wall of the back garden.

"Ron, how can we afford this? This neighbourhood is out of our range, and you know it. You must."

"Yeah, ordinarily. But the owner has been transferred to the British High Commission in Canada and now carrying two mortgages," he explained as they continued walking until they were back in the kitchen and leaning against the counter with the stools on the other side. "He dropped the price two days ago so he could clear out quickly. He wants £649 000. We don't have a car, nor do we need one. We'll get connected to the floo network. A lot of areas we can convert to magical lighting, plus we have a considerable down payment when you add together the money we've saved and all those gifts from well wishers. We have twenty percent after we convert to Muggle money."

"You must also be counting on some money from actual family and friends as gifts for the wedding, then. Monthly payments will still be high."

"Yeah. We can sell if we can't afford it. But really, I've not even been working a year at the ministry, still entry level. Salary is bound to go up over the years, I reckon. And you, same thing. But, if this is our home, not just a starter, you know, thennnn," he drawled, "I think we could do it."

"You do?"

"I do," he stated flatly.

You love it that much?" she asked.

I do. The question is, do you?"

"I do," she replied softly, the double entendre obvious in her reply. He smiled, brightly. "Hold your thestral, Weasley," she cautioned.

"What?"

"We have to check out schools first."

"Nigel will have that information. I told him not to come without that kind of thing, everything about the area, etc., etc." He smiled at her and his expression changed as a thought occurred to him.

"What is it? Did we miss something else, other than the obvious tax information, heating costs—etc., etc.," she quoted back to him.

"Yup!" he said, backing her against the counter and trapping her between his arms and kissing her soundly. She felt his arms flexing beside her, putting pressure on the countertop. Suddenly his hands cupped her arse from both sides and he lifted her off the floor and sat her on the granite top without breaking the kiss. Hermione yelped and laughed at him, her legs encircling him immediately to pull him closer. "Okay, counter's good and sturdy for... all sorts of cooking.

"Ronald Weasley, you're incorrigible!"

"And you love it!" he countered.

"Yes, I do. And I love you. Let's go talk with Nigel."

A/N: The Nightmare story will continue, hopefully, soon. I am _slowly_ getting my muse back.

Generations, the next multi-chapter part of the story, is set during Hermione's second pregnancy. So that's a lot of water under the bridge and my usual flashback style would cause too many plot digressions and be confusing—unless you're Dan Brown writing, and I'm not. Hence, the removal of this piece.


End file.
